Classic Poem

Tho ' late in life, too early snatch'd away,
We dew with fruitless tears thy lifeless clay;
Around thy aweful bier with sighs attend,
Lament the Man, the Father, and the Friend;
Regret that fourscore years and four should close
Thy varied scene of happiness and woes;
Untimely think thy loss, and still repine,
That what was human should become divine;
Almost forget the years, and months, and days,
Cheer'd by thy Virtues, sanction'd by thy praise.
—Too swift, alas! those days and years have fled,
That brought the moment when thy sacred head
Increas'd the number of the honour'd dead.

 Yet still, with fondness sad, shall Friendship dwell
On all thy virtues; and delight to tell
The blameless tenor of thy useful life,
Soil'd by no crime, and troubled by no strife:
Gentle as ever, in thy death the same,
One peaceful sigh dissolv'd thy aged frame:
By Faith supported, by Misfortune tried,
The Christian rose to Heav'n—the Mortal died.